


Cicatrix

by JaneQDoe



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8688901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneQDoe/pseuds/JaneQDoe
Summary: 3 times Kara notices Cat’s scars





	

1st:   
As her employment with Cat Grant continued, Kara Danvers found her original job description was somewhat...lacking, or perhaps imprecise. Nowhere in the ad did it mention: “helping the CEO avoid her mother”, or “prank-calling John Stamos” or, today’s task: “personal dresser”.

Cat had a Very Important Event and she was running very late, thanks to an unusually contentious board meeting (and they weren’t normally placid). Her personal shopper had delivered the dress with alterations just that afternoon, and in order to make it on time Cat needed to freshen up, change, and be in the car in 15 minutes. Kara had her doubts - Cat didn’t like to be rushed where her appearance was concerned. Still, she was going to help Cat where she could, and braced herself with tablet in hand as a small blond whirlwind swept into the office.

”Kiera! I need....”

“The car is waiting for you downstairs Miss Grant, and there’s a hot latte and M&M’s in your dressing area. I picked up the shoes you requested, and your dress is hanging up on the hook.”

The whirlwind paused, but just for a moment. “Good, Kiera. What I need though is some help with this dress, don’t wander away and get distracted with your Facebook updates. Let me get situated, and then I’ll need a zip-up. And possibly a scotch. Or seven. So I’m not quite as tempted to have the entire board poisoned at the next CatCo picnic...” Cat disappeared through a doorway in the back of her office that held her private bathroom/dressing area before Kara could even open her mouth to respond.

‘You can do this,’ Kara thought to herself. Of course, the strongest woman in the world (undercover though she may be) wouldn’t have any issue pulling up a minuscule couture zipper. The tiny little problem was the tiny little crush Kara had been developing towards her powerful, tough boss. Who was also beautiful and sexy and witty and scary...Kara groaned to herself. Maybe this wasn’t a great idea. 

The first few months after Kara was hired, she’d been so terrified and overwhelmed and afraid she’d be fired - mainly because Cat threatened it constantly and carried it out in front of her for those who deserved it at least weekly - that nothing else really sunk in. She was in survival mode. Alex had been genuinely worried about her, encouraging her baby sister to “Tell that bitch where to shove it, and find another job!” But, after Kara started to get used to Cat and learned to read and predict her boss better each day, and after Cat apparently realized Kara wasn’t just another short-time assistant but someone worth investing in, the women began to build trust in each other. Cat would surprise Kara with some generous gesture or supportive words, although always offered offhandedly and often as a backhanded compliment. And Kara found she enjoyed going the extra mile in making sure Cat was taken care of and comfortable, above and beyond her job requirements. Swapping out one of the decanters of alcohol for peanut M&M’s. Making sure Cat took a moment for her daily Lexapro, and never went more than 2 weeks without a massage. Ensuring business meetings never conflicted with Carter’s school plans, even the unofficial ones. They weren’t technically outside the bounds of what a competent assistant would do, but Kara wondered if she delight she felt in pleasing Cat, getting an elusive smile, or a caress of the shoulder, was mayyyyybe something else than taking pride in one’s work.

Moments later, Cat called for her. “Kiera!” And Kara dutifully appeared at her side, and tried not to gasp. The white Monique Lhullier gown fit like a second skin, slinky but classy, and needed only the tiny zipper to complete the look. Cat’s exquisite, fine-boned back was on full display. 

It was normal to want to connect the little freckles on your sexy boss’s back with your tongue, right? “Rao, Kara, get a grip. And not on Cat!”, Kara thought to herself as she reached out and put her hands on the expensive dress, trying her hardest not to touch Cat’s skin.

Before the zipper was in place, Kara couldn’t help but ogle Cat’s ivory complexion. In addition to the adorable freckles, she noticed a 3 inch scar, faded white with time, sliding along Cat’s right side. Before she could stop herself, Kara mentioned it. “Oh, Miss Grant. I didn’t realize you had a scar there.” And immediately regretted it. Fortunately, Cat was more focused on getting to her event than excoriating her assistant’s inappropriate comment.

“Yes, well, all sorts of things about me you don’t know, Kiera. I’ll be back after the event to handle the ridiculous plans the board has for the next magazine issue. You’re not required to stay, but...” Cat turned to Kara and stepped closer. Kara felt the small dressing room get even smaller, and fought her natural urge to back up. “If you can stay, I’ll tell you the story of the scar.” With a smirk, Cat Grant swept out of the office and off to her event. Kara was fairly certain she didn’t breathe until she heard Cat’s car pull away.

Kara wished she had something to distract her in between the time Cat left and when she returned. Leaving wasn’t even a thought in Kara’s mind. Not only did she organize her work for the upcoming week, she also cleaned her work space and Winn’s, and rearranged the break room. She wanted to ask Alex about what had happened, and her burgeoning feelings, but Alex loved to tease Kara about Cat which would NOT be helpful at this point.

Cat swept back through the bullpen no more than 2 hours after she’d originally left. “Come here for a second, I’ll need you to help me get out of this costume.” They repeated the unzipping process, and Kara was both glad and sad to see Cat back in her standard, if stylish, work attire. She had left off the Louboutin’s, however - her boss had an affinity for being barefoot as often as possible. After trying on heels, even Kara’s Kryptonian feet were uncomfortable if not painful, so she could only imagine what Cat’s feet felt like. Plus, Kara thought with a sigh, it was sort of...cute.

“Grab those layouts and join me on the balcony, dear. We might as well have something pretty to look at, because it sure isn’t that article the CFO’s cousin wrote he’s insisting we include.”

The women worked quietly side by side for a while in their usual routine, trading off proof pages, and Cat sipping at her Macallen. Eventually, she spoke. “You’ve been a help tonight Kiera, in several ways. I’m glad I didn’t have to ask Joe at the security desk to unzip me.” 

Kara smiled. “I’m sure Josh would’ve been delighted to help, Miss Grant.” Cat actually chuckled at her, although it may have been the alcohol, Kara thought.

Cat relaxed back against her favorite chair, and kicked one long leg over the other, and began to regale Kara with tales, possibly mildly embellished, of her time at the Daily Planet. “The goal wasn’t to be a gossip columnist you know. It’s just...that’s all Perry White would offer when I told him I didn’t want to be his assistant any more. He thought I’d get offended and quit. And I almost did.” At Kara’s question of why she didn’t, Cat huffed a not-quite-laugh. “Because I wasn’t sure I could get anything better. I thought a foot in the door was a start, and just because I started in the rags didn’t mean I had to stay there. There were some...personal things...going on at the time too...” Cat trailed off, and seemed lost in a sad memory for a moment.

“Anyway,” she shook herself out of it and continued, gesturing occasionally at Kara with her slowly depleting glass. “I clearly didn’t stay there.”

Kara couldn’t help but chime in. “You got your show.” Cat nodded. “I got my show. But before that, before I became “Cat Grant”, did you know I was embedded with the troops in the First Gulf War?” Kara’s answer didn’t really matter, since Cat continued right on. “I wanted to be a serious journalist, make a difference, tell the big stories. So off I went.” 

Kara could tell Cat was somewhere far away at the moment. She could fly in circles naked around the balcony and the CEO wouldn’t see her. Cat took another sip and then a deep breath. “A group of us were in Kuwait, filing stories, doing the things reporters do on location,” here a roll of the eyes, “until one night, our compound was strafed. We were supposed to be on the edge of the conflict, not close to the actual fighting, but someone hadn’t gotten that memo.” Cat’s voice had gotten deeper and slower, and she set the glass in her right hand down, and to Kara it looked almost subconsciously, her hand slid back to rest against her rib cage, right over the scar Kara had seen earlier that night. “Most were lucky. I got hit with shrapnel, badly enough to be sent back stateside to have it removed. A couple didn’t go home.”

It struck Kara that Cat often stood this way as she dictated or paced, with both hands propped on her back, above where most people (including Kara) would just rest them on their hips. She’d thought it was just an affectation of Cat’s, something that was hard to replicate since most women had more substantial hips than her slender boss. But maybe it wasn’t. Kara had begun to realize that there were depths to Cat, even before this deeply personal story, that most people totally missed. Kara had begun to realize that may be Cat’s plan on some level, always letting people underestimate her, and then whammying them with her sharp-eyed observations and business acumen, and complete and total dedication to the truth. 

“Miss Grant...I never heard that story. I’m...I’m so glad you’re ok. And I’m sorry you didn’t get to stay and report like you wanted.” Cat was describing an event that took place before Kara landed on Earth, and still she felt protective of the other woman.

Finally, Cat seemed to remember Kara was with her on the balcony. “Thank you. And I’m not sorry. Being sent home to recuperate, which I’ll admit, I hated and did not always handle with grace, gave me time to think. About what direction I wanted to take, and what kind of truth-teller I wanted to be. I could keep being a reporter and tackle the stories one by one, or I could put my business degree to use, start a company and have a slew of reporters all over the world, fanned out, telling all kinds of stories at once.”

Kara sensed their evening of sharing was coming to a close, as the last sip of the expensive Scotch was drained. “Do you miss it?”

Cat was closing off, back into herself, quickly. “Being the one researching and writing and breaking a story, all on my own? Sometimes. It was making a difference in a more hands-on way. I’d be lying if I said sometimes I don’t want to be on the front lines again, shoving a microphone into some asshole politician’s face, confronting him with his own lies. Or making some faux-lebrity cry on national TV. That was always fun.” She paused, and stood, walking back into the office towards the bar. “Let the driver take you home Kiera, it’s not safe this time of night. I’ve got more work to do here.” 

“Anything I can help with Miss Grant?” Kara didn’t want to give up this closeness, this bubble of sharing that seemed to surround them on a dark evening, tucked away on Cat’s balcony. Cat smiled ruefully. “No, not really. I appreciate the offer. I’ll see you tomorrow Kara.”

Kara had actually begun to second guess herself on how to pronounce her own first name, after hearing Cat twist it into “Kiera” for over a year now. Many days, it was by far the most common word she heard. But this...this was distinctly and clearly: “Kara”. It made her heart sing, and she felt reckless and empowered.

“You looked lovely tonight, Miss Grant.” Cat acknowledged her comment with a tilt of the head and the fresh drink in her hand, a regal gesture from a queen musing over her city, and shooed Kara away without looking back. Kara thought that was probably lucky for her, since Cat may not have appreciated the besotted expression she was sure she couldn’t hold back.

2nd -   
“Let me help you with that Miss Grant.” Kara had her hand stuck out in Cat’s direction, and Cat strode across the office and unhesitatingly placed her hand in Kara’s.

“This bracelet was a gift from Carter, but it’s got the damnedest clasp,” Cat said, having clearly been frustrated by the jewelry already, before her able assistant offered to, well, assist. “I want to make sure he sees it me wearing it.”

Kara smiled - Carter was due to be dropped off at the office, back from his father’s, and she was looking forward to seeing the young pre-teen almost as much as Cat was. As she delicately held Cat’s arm while fumbling with the admittedly tricky closure, Kara noticed a thin, jagged white line on Cat’s palm, at the base of her thumb. Unthinkingly, she ran her finger along the mark, and surprisingly, Cat shivered.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Miss Grant. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ve..I’ve never noticed that mark before.”

“Pfft. You didn’t hurt me, Kiera. It’s a fairly recent addition, probably be gone totally by the end of the year.”

Cat didn’t seem like she was in pain, but Kara caught the undertone of something else she couldn’t quite place. “You can barely tell it’s there. How...I mean...I don’t want to pry, but how did it happen? It looks like it hurt.” Suddenly, Kara really needed to know how Cat got the scar, as an uncomfortable feeling began to wind it’s way through her stomach.

Cat gently removed her hand from Kara’s, the bracelet having finally been successfully attached. “Oh, it’s a few months old. I scraped it when I fell and caught myself with that hand. Just a clumsy accident.” Cat was turned away from Kara as she said it, maybe hoping the lack of eye contact would help sell the casual tone.

Kara spoke fluent Cat-Grant-ese at this point, the language and tones and under-tones of a master but wily communicator. She also had the benefit of being able to hear people’s heartbeats, which often increased when they lied. Cat’s had increased. And Kara knew she wasn’t really lying, but hiding a pertinent fact, a skill at which Cat also excelled. Why would she hide the origin of a little scar, but admit she’d gotten it in a...fall. 

Kara would’ve swayed in place when the realization hit her, except for her natural Kryptonian balance prevented it. The vision swamped her memory for a moment, something she hadn’t realized at the time it actually occurred. Cat had gotten the cut in “a fall.” A free-fall to be exact, originating from the very balcony just steps away from where they now stood. Looking through her mind’s eye, Kara could see it now - she’d barely caught Cat (her boss, her friend, her crush) in time, and Cat, understandably dazed, slammed her hand against the pavement to steady herself where Kara basically dropped her. She’d come within inches of decorating the CatCo sidewalk with the most gruesomely personal display. The smell of blood had hit Kara at that moment, but she’d brushed it aside as she brushed Cat aside and over the 40th floor railing that night. Cat must’ve cut her hand on a piece of glass or something on the ground, and by the time Kara returned to work, it wasn’t noticeable enough to draw her attention. Of course, she had trouble looking at Cat for a while after that event, so maybe it made sense. 

Kara startled when a gentle hand landed on her shoulder. She’d unthinkingly sunk onto one of Cat’s office couches, and Cat had come up next to her. “Kara? Are you all right?”

She jumped up, displacing Cat’s hand in the process. “Yes, yes, Miss Grant, I’m fine. I’m sorry, just had a...moment there. I’m...sorry about your hand.” Kara stared at the limb again, although she couldn’t technically see the mark with the way Cat was holding herself.

Uncharacteristically gently, Cat used the hand in question to pat...no, actually to rub...Kara’s shoulder. “It’s ok, Kara. There’s nothing to forgive. It was just an accident.” With a deep and knowing look and a squeeze to her arm, Cat shooed Kara out of her office.

3rd -   
Their first few times together, Kara had been completely distracted, which Cat was very good at and very proud of - after all, one doesn’t often get to leave a superhero slack-jawed and gob-smacked with passion. Now that at least a little of the “this is only temporary, she’s going to leave me” panic had faded for both women, with each night spent wrapped around and inside each other, with each morning sharing soft smiles over coffee and breakfast, and with a few game nights with Carter, Kara began to notice some of the smaller things she’d overlooked in her initial goofy, giddy desire for this woman (that had lasted at least 2 years, but who’s counting).

Kara wanted to know every single detail about Catherine Jane Grant. She had a good start, after two years of pretty much daily, constant contact; better than probably anyone else in Cat’s life, including the fathers of her children and her own mother. From the top of her exquisitely styled hair (“Of course it’s colored, you knew that - but I’ve been a blond longer than you’ve been alive, and very few almost 50 year-old's don’t have some gray, darling. Besides, now you’re very well aware of my natural hair color”), to the bottom of her dainty size 7 feet (“I’m not claiming an inch less than 5’5” Kara - quit acting like you tower over me, floating doesn’t count”).

Once the thirst for each other had been temporarily quenched, and Kara could touch Cat without it leading immediately to another round, she often found herself mapping and learning her partner’s body, entranced by the soft skin and delicate muscles. It was an exercise she never seemed to tire of, and Cat never complained because she enjoyed the attention, and returning the favor. Kara thought Cat’s body was much more interesting than her own, but had the good sense not to say that out loud. It was difficult if not near impossible to win an argument with Cat normally, and Kara’s success rate plummeted when Cat was naked and even sneakier than usual, completely comfortable dumbfounding Kara by sliding right up against her until the argument (and almost everything else) was forgotten. 

Kara was snuggled up next to her love one night, just tracing her fingers along Cat’s bare torso, and the tops of her thighs, as Cat ran her hand through Kara’s hair, both enjoying the afterglow of an unusually quiet and intense bout of lovemaking. As she made a low circle of her abdomen, Kara’s fingers hit a puckered bit of skin. Following it along it’s path, Kara realized what she’s always assumed was just a fold of skin was actually a horizontal scar. “Cat? What’s this?” Kara asked, gently drawing her fingers back and forth along the ridge.

Her partner had been lulled into a near doze by the hypnotic movements of Kara’s fingers; as opposed to their very purposeful movements earlier that pushed her into ecstasy, so it took her a moment to answer. “Hmm? Oh, that. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed it before darling - you’ve spent a lot of time sightseeing in that area these last few weeks.”

Kara barely blushed at the very true insinuation - she was getting better at that - as Cat began to explain.

“Adam was born naturally and without complications, but it was a difficult delivery - narrow hips, you know, even though I was only 22. So when I got pregnant with Carter, my obstetrician thought it would be better to plan for a c-section right from the start. But, as it turned out, I would’ve ended up having one anyway.”

Kara’s fingers stilled on Cat’s skin and she straightened a little to be able to be face to face with her. “What happened?”

Cat cocked her head in momentary confusion. “I guess I didn’t realize...we’ve never talked about this.”

“If you don’t want to Cat, it’s no...” Kara was interrupted by a gentle pat to her chest.

“No, I want you to know, it’s not a secret. I just forget sometimes, what you do and don’t know about me, and Carter too. And the parts of my life that aren’t really public record.” Cat took a sip of the water on her bedside table, and then snuggled down a little further into Kara, her own personal heater. “Carter was born a month early. He was due in October. I had some issues during the pregnancy, and my doctor was monitoring me carefully - because at 35 I was already an “older” mother,” Kara knew the eye roll was happening even without watching. “Anyway...”

Cat spilled out the story of Carter’s birth, how early contractions landed her in the hospital (“Which you know I hate, darling”), her husband had been on a business trip and couldn’t get back, so she was alone and scared. “Just like when Adam was born. I’d hoped, since Nathan and I were married and still mostly in love at that point, and Carter was very much planned for and wanted, the birth experience would be different.” Kara cuddled around her, offering comfort for the memories that Cat was reliving, and, when Cat got to the part explaining how she and Carter had both nearly died before the doctor could get Cat into surgery, it was for Kara’s comfort too.

Even though Kara knew how the story had to turn out - after all, the focus of it had just been sent to bed hale and hearty a few hours ago, comic books in hand and a belly full of cookies, and the other main character was safely wrapped in her arms - she found her heart beat increasing, and clutching Cat tighter. Maybe a little too tight. “Shhh...easy, sweetheart, relax, it’s ok. We’re both ok. Carter was a little on the small side for his first year or so, and I have a scar only a very select few get to see. It ended up all right.” 

Kara loosened her grip enough for Cat to be comfortable and not squeezed too tightly, but didn’t completely turn her loose. “Sorry. Thank you for telling me. I’m so glad...you’re both here and safe. I’m a big, big fan of most Grants, after all.” Kara continued to relax measure by measure, and Cat kept up soothing strokes against her hair and arms.

After several minutes, Cat cleared her throat and spoke. “I think that’s enough for tonight’s round of Cat Scar Bingo.” 

Kara responded by kissing and nibbling her partner’s delectable collarbone. “That’s not it and you know it. It’s called ‘Let me find out everything there is to know about the woman I love’, and I enjoy it more than anything I’ve ever played before.” 

Cat may have teared up, but she’d deny it. “Well, then. Who am I to stand in the way of that? Is it...is it an extended, lengthy game, do you think? Enough to keep you entertained for a good, long while?” She slid a finger sensuously along Kara’s cheek, scratching lightly, causing the best kind of shivers in a woman who couldn’t actually get cold.

Kara turned the full force of her smile in Cat’s direction, so big her eyes were squinted almost shut, as she leaned in again for another kiss on those delectable lips she loved so dearly. “Well, I’m certainly planning on it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Cicatrix - Latin, "scar".


End file.
